


Six Times Charles Took Someone's Virginity and One Time He Remembered Losing His Own

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Frottage, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Possible Dubious Consent, Pseudo-Incest, Rimming, Rough Sex, Teacher/Student Dynamics, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is a good teacher. He knows the importance of controlling your powers in sex. So he teaches the others too ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Times Charles Took Someone's Virginity and One Time He Remembered Losing His Own

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=10901285#t10901285) prompt in the xmen-first kink meme. The "possible dubious consent" tag refers to the fact that Charles is in a position of power with almost all of those people which makes things uncertain.

Charles’s hands are wonderfully hot.

Raven writhes against them, pushing up against him, grabbing his shoulders to hold him close. Charles allows it, _welcomes_ it even, kissing her hard while he speaks in her mind.

_That’s it. That’s it. You’re doing so well, Raven. You should enjoy this. Sex should always be wonderful._

He trails his lips down her throat, nips playfully at her shoulder before moving down to kiss her breasts. Raven closes her eyes, gasping for breath. She’s never felt anything like this before, never, it’s incredible and Charles, one of his hands is between her legs, touching, oh God, oh God, it feels so good – 

_Keep control, Raven. You must keep this form._

She moans and scratches him, half out of need to pull him closer, half out of frustration at his words. How, how is she supposed to hang onto this form when she’s feeling so good, when all she wants to think about is the way Charles is gently moving his fingers inside her, the way he is moving her legs apart with the other hand …

 _It’s important_ Charles murmurs in her mind, mouth back on her breasts, sucking gently in a way that sends waves of heat down to her stomach. _Control is so important. There may be times when you need to do this. And you can do it, Raven. I know you can._

He removes his fingers, grasps her hips and Raven closes her eyes, moaning his name as she tries to focus on her body; on her own skin rather than Charles’s, on the clouds of blonde hair on her own head instead of short silky brown hair on his but it’s hard, it’s so hard and then he thrusts inside her and she cries out and he gives this groan like she’s the most wonderful thing that he’s ever felt and his hands are clutching her hips again, his mouth against her throat and now he’s saying her name out-loud: “Raven, Raven, _Raven_ … ”

She loses control. Her skin ripples to blue and she can’t get it back. She can’t focus on anything except Charles’s hands and the way his hips move against hers and the feel of him inside her, thrusting and thrusting …

If anything, it feels almost more intense now that she’s in this form. Different yes, but still so very, very wonderful.

He comes hard inside her and that makes her come too, arching against him. Charles holds her and strokes the back of her neck as she clings to him.

“It’s all right,” he murmurs. “This was just your first time. You were doing so well. You’ll learn to control it.”

Raven doesn’t quite dare ask if that means they’ll be doing this again.

*

Alex can’t quite believe he’s doing this.

If anyone had told him this would happen, that he’d end up lying outside on the lawn with the Professor, the fucking Professor pressed against his back with his hand down his pants, he’d have said they were an idiot. And maybe punched them for good measure. Because this, this isn’t, this just doesn’t happen.

But it kinda is happening and it’s … well. Okay, _kinda_ good isn’t covering what he’s feeling right now with the Professor’s hand where it is, stroking and tugging and fuck, yeah, that feels, fuck, yeah but the build up inside him isn’t just good and he automatically tries to wriggle away because fuck, can’t risk that …

_Don’t be frightened, Alex. That’s the point of the exercise, remember? You won’t hurt me, I trust you. Just take deep breaths. You have control over this._

Control? He doesn’t have any fucking control, isn’t that the point? There’s a reason he’s never let anybody at him like this, because he can’t fucking cope with this shit and ah, fuck, fuck, how does the Prof even know to use his hand like that when _he_ didn’t even know he’d like it?

_You have control, Alex. That’s it. You’re holding it back. Keep holding it. You can do that._

The Professor licks his neck, then kisses it in a really gentle way that Alex is embarrassed to admit that he likes. He’s rubbing Alex’s hip with the hand that’s not between his legs, pulling Alex back against him and the Professor’s all hard too, fuck, that’s weird but yeah, it’s hot, it’s … yeah, this is good, fuck, fuck, control, need to control this ...

_That’s right, Alex. That’s right, you’re doing so well. Just a bit longer. Just a bit._

His power is burning inside him and it hurts, he wants to let it go, he _needs_ to let it go but the Professor’s got his arm around his chest again and if he hurts him, if he hurts him, fuck …

He comes and the Professor snatches his arm back just in time because he can’t stop the power spilling from him, bright, burning, hot around them, wiping out the stars with its light. The Professor stays behind him, smoothing his hair, his mind soothing.

_It’s okay. It’s okay, Alex._

“Sure,” he mutters, then twists around and kisses him because why the fuck not after all this and the Professor gives this sigh and kisses him back and he’s still hard so Alex grabs at him and the now the Professor is groaning and squirming and it’s fucking great to make someone else feel that good …

 _You have lovely hands_ the Professor compliments him sleepily afterwards and Alex feels weirdly like the whole thing was a success, even if he didn’t quite manage what the Professor wanted and there’s burn marks on the lawn. 

Next time he’ll do better.

*

If Sean is honest, he never really thought about what his powers might do during sex.

Maybe it’s a bit stupid that he’s not thought about that. But hey, he can talk normally so he’s fine, right? It’s not a problem, it’s never going to be a problem.

Professor Xavier disagrees though. And given the fact that Sean nearly screamed out loud when Professor Xavier first went on his knees and took him in his mouth, okay, well, maybe Professor Xavier is right.

Charles. _Charles_ is right. Because right now, they’re both completely naked and the man is between his legs sucking him off and if someone’s doing that, you can call them by their first name.

That’s how Sean sees it, anyway.

_You think a lot, Sean. That’s good, that will help you control this if you’re thinking about the right thing. Just don’t let yourself get distracted._

Sean wonders how Charles sounds so calm when he’s doing stuff like that with his tongue. When he’s pressing his fingers against Sean’s thighs, pinching just a little in a way that’s really, really good.

He whimpers and feels a flick of gentle disapproval.

_Silence, Sean. Think of what will happen if you get just a little louder than that. You could just cause me pain. You could deafen me permanently._

Yeah. And alert everyone in a ridiculously large radius that he’s getting laid. Sean’s not exactly against the idea of everybody knowing that but maybe right now, maybe that’s not the best thought he’s ever had …

Charles took his mouth away and Sean bit his tongue to stop himself from asking why because that probably counted as a sound and he had promised but he really didn’t want Charles to _stop_ , that was the last thing he wanted so why – ?

_Impatience is not a virtue, Sean._

He thinks grumpy thoughts back and Charles laughs softly, then ducks his head again. He doesn’t go for Sean’s cock though, he goes lower and for a moment, Sean doesn’t really get it and then suddenly Charles is doing something and _fucking hell_ , that’s, that … okay, he’s never thought putting your tongue there could possibly be a thing and he’s certainly never thought it would feel that good and he wanted to yell but he’s promised so he clamps his teeth together and wriggles and tries to project a mental scream of _yes, don’t stop, don’t stop, please!_

_I’m not going to stop, Sean. Unless you make an actual sound. Not a peep now._

Sean presses his hands over his mouth and chews on his tongue rather than risk making a noise while Charles uses his tongue to great effect. He can’t stop jerking his hips but Charles doesn’t seem to mind that. He doesn’t seem to mind that at all.

Sean manages to come with only the faintest of squeaks. Charles laughs and sits back, wiping his mouth on his hand. His lips are redder than ever now and he’s flushed in a way that’s almost kind of cute.

“Well done, Sean,” he says and there’s real pride in his voice. 

“Hey, I never mess up when I put my mind to something,” Sean tells him and is quite pleased when Charles laughs.

*

Hank lies on the floor of the lab, gasping for breath, digging his fingers and toes against the floor. He can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe that he’s here and Charles, Charles is touching him like this, _wants_ to touch him like this with his hands on Hank’s thighs, leaning down to kiss Hank’s knees.

_You’re lovely, Hank. You’re beautiful – and I must admit, I can’t imagine anybody not agreeing if they saw you like this._

“I’m not,” he whispers. “I’m really not Professor, I … ah!”

Charles is stroking Hank’s erection and his hand is wet and cool with the lubricant he has been applying. Hank closes his eyes and scratches the floor harder as feelings surge through him, desperate feelings. He wants to grab Charles, wants to grab him and throw him onto the floor and straddle him and pin him and _fuck_ him …

_It’s all right to want that, Hank. One day, it might be a lot of fun. But you may hurt me a little more than you’d like if you do. You can control this rather than have it controlling you. I believe in you._

He swallows, closes his eyes. He does understand what Charles wants but it frightens him, it frightens him so much. How can he trust himself? If the monster breaks free, if it bursts out …

_There’s no monster. There’s just another part of you. You can do this. Don’t be afraid of it. Don’t be afraid of yourself._

Charles strokes his stomach and Hank trembles at the touch. He wants so much, he’s never wanted anything like this before, never felt so needy.

“P-please …”

_Yes, darling. Yes, I’m here. It’s all right. Let me show you …_

Charles straddles him, moving upwards and Hank opens his eyes again because he wants, _needs_ to see and Charles smiles at him and it’s so nice, so, so caring and Hank feels another surge of desperation and he’s trying to grab at Charles without even meaning to but Charles just laughs and then – 

Then he’s pushed himself down onto Hank and Hank’s never felt anything, anything like that before, it’s better than his hand, it’s better than _anything_ and Charles seems to feel it too, his head is thrown back and he’s gasping, gasping open-mouthed and beautiful, he’s so, so beautiful …

He can feel his nails digging into Charles’s soft skin, can’t seem to prise them lose but Charles doesn’t seem to mind, he smiles, he _laughs_ , then kisses Hank and Hank kisses him frantically back, feeling those gorgeous lips and he feels like he’s on fire, he needs more, he needs … but no, he has to control himself, he has to hold it back because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he has to be good, careful …

But he still can’t stop himself digging his nails in. Still can’t stop his legs from clamping around Charles, holding him close, clutching him close. Can’t stop himself kissing frantically, hard, can’t stop himself moving to Charles’s gorgeous slender neck and _biting_ , can’t help liking the little cry he hears in response. Can’t stop his hips thrusting harder and harder to match Charles’s movements, going deeper and deeper …

He cries out when he comes and even to his own ears, it’s more like a roar than anything else. Charles moans softly and strokes his hair, kind, soothing, reassuring.

“You did so well, Hank. You really did well. God, you’re lovely. Please believe that.”

He wants to. He wants to believe it so badly. And while Charles is holding him like this, stroking his hair, murmuring reassurances, he almost can.

But as Charles cleans himself afterwards, he can’t help noticing the long, vivid scratches on his arms, the bruised bite mark on his throat and the fear begins to grow again.

*

Erik tells himself that it’s only a lesson.

It’s a very sensible learning opportunity. Something he ought to take advantage of. If he _were_ to lose control, Charles can stop him – not that he will need to, Erik is always in control, always. But as he’s never done anything like this before, well … It’s good to be certain. It’s good to know for sure. Just in case.

So kissing Charles, running his fingers through Charles’s hair and down his back, feeling Charles grind against him, listening to Charles making little breathless gasps when he bites Charles’s neck, it’s all just part of that lesson. Yes, it’s physically pleasurable, of course it is, it’s sex. Sex _is_ physically pleasurable – or so he’s always been told. And yes, yes, he can’t deny that he’s enjoying the feeling of Charles responding, of Charles’s hands on his chest, of Charles’s voice thrumming in his mind with praise and reassurance and _yes, Erik, like that, that’s good, oh, yes …_

But it’s just a lesson. He feels nothing except those physical reactions. Of course he feels nothing. Charles is a friend, that is all. Perhaps a good friend. A very good friend. But not more than a friend. Even if right now, he is closer to Erik that anybody has ever been and he’s kissing him and stroking him and making him feel so good, making him want more and more …

_We can go to a bed, Erik._

But somehow, they don’t get that far and Erik finds himself against the wall, Charles pressed tight against him, still kissing and touching and even fully clothed, it’s so, so good and he can’t quite imagine what it will feel like naked and he doesn’t think he _wants_ to be naked, although perhaps with Charles, that wouldn’t be so terrible, with Charles none of this seems so bad and he wants it, he does want it very much …

Every bit of metal unsecured metal in the room lifts an inch when he comes against Charles’s body. Several bits of secured metal try to lift too and it’s only due to Charles’s quick mental interference that they do not. Charles playfully scolds him for his lack of control.

“Oh shut up, Charles. I won’t often be in this sort of situation. It’s not that important.”

“ _You_ were the one telling me that you had such good control, remember? Keep this in mind, there’s always more to learn.”

Yes. Yes, there is. And Erik finds that despite his own sensible words to himself, he rather wants to learn it all at Charles’s side.

*

Moira can’t help wondering if she has become a cliché.

She has never been ashamed of being a virgin. Being taken seriously in her field matters to her and she’s been too busy working on that to focus a lot on other things. She’s found time to date but there’s been nobody quite special enough, nobody worth tying herself down to. And it never really mattered until now. There was plenty of time, plenty of time to do everything.

Until now. Sitting up, wondering if she will die tomorrow, if the _world_ will die tomorrow, if she’s missed her chances …

And that was when Charles found her.

Which is why she’s now in his bed with his head between her legs, trying not to scream.

She knows he’s in her mind, reading exactly what she likes and doing more of that. Any time he has done something she has found at all displeasing, he stopped instantly, murmured an apology. He is not hiding what he can do and Moira thinks it’s one of the most incredible things she has ever come across. 

_Please, please, more_ she projects and can feel him smile in her mind, feel how glad he is that she’s enjoying it, how feeling her pleasure is bringing him close to orgasm without her even touching him.

“I want to touch you,” she pants out-loud, determined. “I want to … Charles … please … ”

_You first._

He makes her come before he moves up to kiss her, presses his body against hers. His lips taste of _her_ and when she flips him onto his back and straddles him, he moans her name in a way that nearly makes her come again before she’s even got him inside her.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers and she finds that hearing it from him, it makes her feel … good. He lets her feel his orgasm, washing through her mind like a wave and knows that he feels the same when she comes a second time.

He holds her close afterwards, stroking her hair, his eyes oddly far away, as though thinking about something else. Moira decides not to ask. There are too many questions in her own mind right now.

Everyone deserves some privacy.

*

Charles tries never to think about his first time.

Sometimes it creeps into his mind almost without him realising it. A little event will suddenly bring it back full force, every moment of it and the shame, the guilt … it is shattering.

He should have _known_. Why didn’t he know? He’d tried to be so good. He’d known Claire wanted him, of course, he’d wanted her too but he’d put up his shields as hard as he could, trying to make it honest, making sure he couldn’t be influenced by her and she couldn’t be influenced by him. When she’d kissed him, touched him, let him touch her, he’d known it was because they both wanted it and that had been so exciting and she’d been so lovely and he’d wanted it so much …

And then he’d lost control.

_Don’t think about it. Don’t. You did what you could to make it right. You did what you could …_

Claire had been all right, in the end. Everyone had been all right in the end. Charles had fixed it. He’d fixed all of it.

But fixing something doesn’t mean that it never happened. Doesn’t make it right.

He should have realised the possible dangers. He should have kept his mind closed. He should have been stronger. He should have been _better_.

But he wasn’t.

Charles closes his eyes and pushes the memories back with all the strength he has. It happened. He can’t change it. It will never happen again. And he can help others too, help them not live with similar guilt.

He can always help others. 

And maybe one day, he won’t feel guilty any more.


End file.
